Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Glue.” Ryan said, hand outstretched.
“Glue, please?”
Ryan sighed. “Yes. Glue, please.” It dropped into his hand, and he grumbled under his breath. “Nina isn’t even here anymore.”
Jasper patted his back. “It’s just a good habit to get into.”
“Okay, you know what?” Ryan tossed the glue on the coffee table, where they’d set up part of the miniature theme park—complete with hedges in the shape of the number fifteen, for their anniversary—and tackled Jasper onto the couch.
“Hey!” Jasper said through a laugh. He fought back weakly and spread his knees apart, letting Ryan settle between them. “I’m just trying to keep you on your toes. Once you start meeting with clients, you’ll have to be in customer service mode.”
Ryan nuzzled into Jasper’s neck and mumbled, “I don’t care about that right now.”
“Well, you should,” Jasper said.
Ryan was pretty sure if he just nibbled right there, along the line of Jasper’s jaw, he would stop caring, too. He gave it a shot and was rewarded with a sweet little moan and the feel of Jasper’s hardening cock pressing into his own.
“We don’t have time for this,” Jasper breathed.
“I can be quick.”
“I’m sure you can, but no.” Jasper shoved Ryan off his body and adjusted his pants. He grabbed the picnic table he was working on when Ryan tackled him. “Later, though.”
Ryan dropped a quick kiss to Jasper’s cheek and picked up the tree he was flocking with white paint and crushed velvet. “How’s this?”
“Looks great. How’s this?” Jasper asked, placing the picnic table slightly too close to the restaurant.
“Move it a little further from the building, I think.”
Jasper moved it about two millimeters, and Ryan felt his face scrunch up.
“Oh, for the—your standards are impossible,” Jasper scoffed. “I didn’t do this to you when you put a mustache on tiny Ryan.”
“My standards are perfectly reasonable. And that’s because I did a great job on the mustache.”
Ryan laughed at his own joke, keeping his fingers steady on top of the picnic table. Jasper touched the tip of a toothpick into a puddle of glue, wicking the tiniest bit around each table leg. They sat in focused silence while it dried, Ryan’s knee pressed against Jasper’s on the couch.
The miniature theme park Ryan started a year ago had slowly taken over the living room over the last few weeks.
Tiny benches, impossibly delicate fences, miniature versions of the park’s rides, hand-painted flower beds—including the animatronic ones Logan had murdered—and, of course, a carousel.
It was the size of a dinner plate and had taken them days to get right.
With Jasper’s winter vacation ending, they were hurrying to finish the rest of the park to unveil it at the anniversary party they were hosting later.
“Okay,” Ryan said, thirty minutes later. “I think… huh. Are we done?”
Jasper scanned the room, eyes catching on each scattered attraction individually. He nodded. “I think so.”
Dinner was noisy. Of course it was—Beni was there, and so were the kids. Calliope was sticking her fluffy nose into everything, inspiring Nina to offer to carry her around.
At some point during dinner, Ryan looked up and caught Jasper staring at him from across the table. His stomach did a little flip, like the night they’d met fifteen years ago, when he realized he’d met the love of his life.
A lot had happened in those fifteen years, good and bad. By now, he was almost glad he and Jasper had suffered through three terrible months of unknowing.
Almost. Not quite—maybe eventually, but for now he was thinking of it as an awful time in his life, but one that forced conversations that had been years in the making. They were stronger for it.
Beni and Stevie collected the dishes after everyone had finished eating Ryan’s elaborate dinner, which Jasper helped with, by rewarding Ryan with kisses for each completed dish. That was Ryan’s idea.
They were alone at the table now. Ryan caught Jasper staring again when he turned his focus from the kids, who were putting a shirt on Calliope, back to the nearly empty dining room.
“What?” Ryan said across the table.
Jasper gave him a shy smile. “Nothing.”
“You’ve been staring at me all night.” He leaned across the table. “I think you like me.”
“I might,” Jasper said.
“I might like you, too.”
“Yeah?” Jasper said, leaning over his side of the table. There were still a couple feet between them, so Ryan pushed himself further, the table cutting into his stomach.
“Yeah. Maybe we could go out sometime.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Beni groaned, reentering the dining room with a cake she’d brought.
“What?” Ryan said.
“You two are sick.”
“Excuse me for being in love!” Ryan said. “And you say this to me on our anniversary! I’m moving to sit next to my husband.”
He did, settling into the seat Nina had called for herself because it had the best view of the chicken coop, brushing the back of his fingers against Jasper’s hand.
Jasper threaded their fingers together. They stayed that way through dessert, Ryan using his left hand to eat because he wanted to become fully ambidextrous as an interesting challenge.
Jasper sighed every time Ryan dropped his fork, even offered to switch chairs, but never let go.
An hour later, the house had cleared out.
It happened the way it always did at the end of a good night—the chaos of gathering coats, the drag of dawdling goodbyes, Winnie slipping out first while Nina took her sweet time choosing a miniature figurine to take home with her.
Ryan stood with Beni at the door and she leaned in to hug him.
“Happy anniversary. I’m really happy for you,” she whispered.
“Me too.”
The door clicked shut and he blew out a big breath, relieved to be in the peaceful quiet of a house shared with only Jasper.
He felt hands wrap around his waist and a kiss to the back of his neck.
It was exactly what he’d wanted all day, but he looked up and noticed the half-empty mugs scattered across the table, the plates littered with cake crumbs, a few slips of ribbon next to wadded up wrapping paper.
“We can clean up in the morning,” Jasper said.
Ryan nodded. “I guess so.”
“It was a long day. Fun, though.”
“It was.” He turned in Jasper’s arms, so the front of their bodies pressed together. “But I’m glad we’re alone.”
“Me too.” Jasper kissed him quickly before pulling away. “Hey, I got you something.”
“We already exchanged gifts!”
“Yes, and I loved mine. This isn’t an anniversary gift, though. It’s something else. Don’t get too excited, it’s not that great.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Jasper darted out of the room and came back holding a small, surprisingly heavy box. He placed it in Ryan’s hands and smiled, before twisting his fingers together nervously. “Okay. Open it. But seriously—it’s not that great. It’s… whatever.”
It was confusing at first—a line of thick white paper cards he couldn’t figure out the purpose of. “Paper?”
Jasper rolled his eyes, reaching into the box and pulling one out. He held it up and it all made sense.
“Business cards!”
“Yeah!” Jasper said, turning it in his hand to read it out loud. “Ryan Sullivan Handiwork. And there’s your number, and your email address. That’s a little hammer and nail so they know you’re handy, and a dumbbell so they know you’re strong. And that’s the website I set up for you.”
“You made me a website?”
“Well, no, I hired someone to do it. But the idea was mine.”
Ryan threw the cards on the table and grabbed Jasper in a rough hug, hard enough that Jasper squeaked out a puff of air. “You’re the best,” he said, kissing Jasper repeatedly. “Thank you so much.”
“I just want you to know I believe in you. And I want you to trust that you have my full support. And I’m so excited to see what you do with this.”
“I love you so much. I wish I had another present for you.”
“I love you too. And I have several ideas of what you can give me. In the bedroom. Right now.”
Ryan hummed as he walked him backwards down the hallway, kissing and sucking on Jasper’s neck. “It’s quite a sacrifice, but I guess you deserve it.”